


try and make it up to you

by Achos_Laazov



Category: Designated Survivor (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 10:23:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13074879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achos_Laazov/pseuds/Achos_Laazov
Summary: "Is that a promise?""Yeah, it's a promise."





	try and make it up to you

"--Sir?--" Voices are still coming, echoing down a long corridor stretching miles from your cell phone to your ear.

"--Mr. President?--" and the distance grows longer as your fingers grow limp and your mind goes still with disbelief.

"--Presi--"

The phone slips from a slack grip and falls, falls, falls, along with your heart.

_Alex_ \-- and your spirit crumbles at the thought of her and your legs can't support you anymore, without her --

You hit the floor and someone's screaming  _tell them to stop_  it's your turn --  _Alex!_

And then suddenly, somehow, you're in a car, the back seat of the Beast -- the confusion reminds you of the first time you rode in this car, but now --Alex-- she's not here to sit alongside you, to help you focus, to  _tell your kids_ \--

Mike says, "Take him home," but home is not here, not anymore.

Home is gone.

You're being rushed along, into the White House residences. The rooms are familiar but strange and the security falls back to hang around the edges of your sitting room. Watching you stoically as you fall apart. Needing to get away from their prying eyes, you step towards your bedroom, touch the doorknobs, turn them -- but don't go in. Not there, not yet. The wood of the door is cool against your forehead, and finally, finally, silent hot tears drip from your eyes to stain the carpeting. Alex will -- would --  _won't_ \-- hate that.

Yesterday has never felt so far away, and tomorrow, never so close. You're frozen for several long moments, just standing and leaning against the door between dreams and reality, and you let more tears fall.

With a groan and a sigh, you pull away from what could have been -- what should have -- to wake your children.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back! Hopefully more coming after this.


End file.
